


The Shattered King

by Redandblackassassin



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Dark Thoughts, Depression, F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-10-21 07:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10680333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redandblackassassin/pseuds/Redandblackassassin
Summary: What if both Dorian and Aelin forged the lock? What if they both survived, but with a cost?





	1. Chapter 1

The world exploded with sapphire as Dorian Havilliard, saviour of worlds, forged the lock. He screamed as pain erupted throughout his whole body. This was it. He was going to die. For Chaol. For Manon, for Aelin. For the future of his friends. It’s easy; to die for your friends.

When blackness was about to swallow him whole, he felt a small yet sturdy hand grip his. “I’m not letting you do this alone, Dorian,” a female voice said. Aelin. “No!” Dorian’s pain-laced yell echoed throughout the forest. He felt a weight being lifted from him, as the Fire-Queen’s magic combined with his own. They could survive this, he though. Surely they could? In the distance, the Ice King saw a vlag approaching. And the next minute; pain. Him and Aelin fell to their knees as they screamed in agony. His mind was on fire. He was going to die. “I’m sorry, Manon, Chaol...” he whispered as he fell to the grass, his mind shattered like glass. Before Dorian’s heavy eyelids closed, he saw Aelin fall as well, with onyx blood running down her nose.

Two days later;

"Dorian, _please_ ,” Chaol Westfall begged as he looked into his friends dazed eyes. For two days Dorian had been like this; staring at the wall, not eating or sleeping, or even responding to the various nurses and visitors he’d had. Not even Phillipa, when she sat next to Dorian’s bed, and told him all the fondest memories she’d had of him. The berry pie, him coming to ask for hot chocolate, wiping his tears when a character died. It was too much for Chaol, he remembered every single thing Phillipa had spoken of. Two days ago, the battle against Erawan was over. The lock had been forged, thanks to Dorian and then Aelin, but when Chaol and the others found the unconscious bodies of Dorian and Aelin... He shook his head, forcing the memory of Dorian’s broken body lying on the grass to the back of his head. Chaol glanced at the door. He could still hear the screams of Aelin in the next room, where her husband, Rowan, held her. He turned back to Dorian and saw tears streaming down his Kings face. Chaol instantly kneeled down before Dorian and wiped his tears away, but it was useless; more trickled down onto the King’s hollow cheeks. “Nonono, we can’t have that,” Chaol said softly, cupping Dorian’s face to catch the endless stream of tears. Did Dorian even realise he was crying? He seemed oblivious to everything, even when the maids changed his bloodied shirt. It killed Chaol when he realised it was Dorian’s blood. Now, he wore all white. Outside, he wore the colour of innocence, inside..Chaol couldn’t even imagine the darkness his beloved friend was facing.

Chaol fought his own tears as he reluctantly took his hands from Dorian’s face and settled on the cold, wooden floor. “I’m sorry,” Chaol muttered, looking up at his friend. He could have sworn he heard a faint ‘don’t’, but before he could reply, somebody knocked on the door. Chaol rubbed his eyes as he stood up and opened the door to find the Witch-Queen. He sniffed, before saying, “ _What_?” Manon’s thin eyebrows furrowed as she glanced at him, then the broken king sitting on the bed. He noticed that her eyes softened as she looked at Dorian. She looked back at him, her golden eyes glimmering slightly. “How is he.” It wasn’t a question. Chaol sighed and ran his hands through his short chestnut brown hair. “How do you think?” he spat out. Her eyes hardened as she narrowed them. “Let me see him. Alone.” When Chaol raised an eyebrow, she tilted her head. “You’re not the only one affected by his condition,” she said quietly. Chaol considered. Before, he wouldn't let the Witch-Queen near his King, his Dorian. "Thirty minutes.” He stated before walking past her to his room where he just about made it through the door before crying. Tears fell down his face like a waterfall. _Dorian,_ his best friend was suffering miserably, and he could do nothing about it. 


	2. The most handsome Adarlanian male

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Manorian fluff, and a Chaorian hug..I like to even things out ;)

Manon drew in a shaky breath as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her, slowly so that only a soft click was heard throughout the room. Supporting her small frame against the door she said, “ _Dorian_.” The young King glanced up at her before looking back down at his fragile hands. Hands which has caused _so_ much destruction of the forest. “Chaol said you haven’t spoke since..” Her voice trailed off. Since him and the Terrasen Queen forged the lock. That had been _two_ days ago. Normally the King couldn’t last two minutes without speaking. This had been the first time she’d seen him since that morning, where he kissed her forehead, smiled, and told her that he’d see her later. He didn't see her later, instead, Chaol saw her, telling her that something had happened. She grew worried for her Princeling. She had regretted not coming sooner, but she’d been so busy with the crochans. This had been the first time Manon was free, so she decided to visit her not-so-quite lover, only to make sure he was alright she told herself. Slowly, she began to walk towards the King. “How are you?” Manon cautiously asked. As expected, Dorian didn’t respond, but he did lift his head to meet her gaze. Sapphire versus gold. Better than nothing. She stopped about a metre from him, and looked intently into his sapphire orbs, hoping that her gold ones would somehow bring him back as they once did. When he only stared back, she sat beside him. He furrowed his groomed brows at her response, but Manon ignored him. “People are calling you and Aelin saviours," she mused. She turned to see a darkness in his eyes. Manon nodded to herself. “It was brave, but stupid.” After a few moments of silence, she found herself saying, “Why didn’t you tell me?” When he didn’t reply she sat up, frustrated.

As she was about to walk out, Dorian said, “What would been the point of _that?_ ” Manon turned to him quickly, her long braid whipping around her shoulders. His voice was broken and hoarse, but it was still his. “I would have liked to know you were planning a suicide, Dorian," she said, exasperated.

“You would have stopped me.”

Manon ran her hands through her hair, only to stop her iron nails making an appearance. How could he be so stupid? “Why did you do it? You knew that the consequence was death.” Dorian gave her a wry smile.

“It was better me than her. Aelin would have been missed more," he said, calmly, as if he didn't mind being sucked up into oblivion. It was dangerous, she thought, feeling that way when he wasn't even twenty-one.

Manon gritted her teeth before saying, “You think that I wouldn’t miss you? That Chaol would sooner take his own life than hear you had _died?_ ” He took a sip of the water next to the bed before saying, “You’d miss me?” Manon thought about it. She’d miss the dimples that formed when he smiled. His laugh. They way he looked at a person when he listened to them. The concentration on his face and how one of his eyes squinted when he read. When..Manon put those thoughts to the back of her head. “Yes. Never think otherwise,” Manon sternly said. Before Dorian could respond, he coughed, which turned into a coughing fit. Worry fluttered in her heart for the young King, so she walked over to him and patted his back. “Easy, Dorian," Manon said softly, surprising herself. She was turning soft, but only for him.

Once Dorian stopped coughing and spluttering, Manon ordered food and watched him eat. Every. Single. Bite. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was until I ate some,” Dorian joked, but Manon still saw darkness in his eyes. Whilst he was eating, Manon studied his physical appearance. He was skinny, too skinny. Manon made a mental note to order his daily food herself, so that he got enough, and some more. When he was done, Manon broke the silence. “Chaol will be back soon.” She glanced at the clock, and realised that that she had been with Dorian for an hour now. His shoulders sagged and he stared at the boring wall. As if he heard his name, Chaol walked through the door, his eyes red and puffy. Crying. The man had been crying. Before Chaol could say anything, Manon pressed her lips to Dorian’s ebony hair and whispered, “Come back to us soon.” She was out of the door before either of two men could speak.

Dorian looked up and Chaol. He’d been crying. Red and purple rimmed Charles eyes and he stared back. “You’re...”

“Speaking,” Dorian finished in a broke voice. Chaol tilted his head and he took a step towards his King.

“How are you feeling? Have you ate? Showered?” Dorian breathed out a laugh at Chaol’s concern. “I feel better, I have ate, and I will get showered soon.” Dorian stood up and met his friend half way. Before he could even make a move, Chaol wrapped his arms around Dorian’s small frame and held on. Tight. Dorian clung to him, afraid he would disappear at any point. “I missed you. I missed you so much,” Chaol breathed out, as more tears threatened. Dorian nodded as he buried his head into his friends shoulder. He loved Chaol, in a different way than the love he felt for Manon. This was more a brotherly love, one he knew would last for as long as he lived. “Can’t..breathe..” Dorian mumbled. Chaol laughed and let him go. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. He received a small smile from the King. “As much as I love your hugs, Westfall, they can sometimes be too tight.”

“Then it’s lucky for you, Havilliard, that I don’t hug very much.” Tears shone in Chaol’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” Dorian started, “I thought that forging the lock myself wouldn’t cause as much pain. I was wrong.”

Chaol furrowed his brows. “I don’t care about that. Not anymore. What I care about now if getting you back to heath.” He looked at Dorian’s hollow cheeks, his not-so-quite sparking sapphire eyes. “Physically and mentally.” A smile tugged at Dorian’s lips.

“I didn’t think I looked that bad," Dorian remarked, with a quirked brow. Chaol raised a brow too. “You’ve looked better,” he joked. The King looked at him in mock horror.

“And here I thought _I_ was the most beautiful Adarlian male in this inn!” Dorian exclaimed.

“You are the _only_ Adarlian male in this Inn.”

“ _Exactly_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long so post, I promise that chapter will be up within this week. Also, question: Should I post my other fanfictions here so they are easily obtained? Plus, I have a few more writings in the works..has anybody read Poison Study by Maria .V Snyder?


	3. The Little King

After what felt like the coldest shower ever, Dorian shivered as he shrugged on a black turtleneck jumper and matching pants. They were made a soft material, and hugged his slim frame. The wooden floor was freezing under his bare feet as he walked towards his room. When he opened the door, he took in his surroundings. He hadn’t actually looked at the room properly, the only thing he was familiar with was the stained grey wall. The bed sat to the right, with a bedside cabinet next to it. To the left, there was a small wardrobe. Dorian opened it with freezing fingers and found a few hangers. He frowned and closed the wardrobe.

“How are you?”

Dorian yelped and turned to find Manon sitting at the edge of the bed. “How did you-“

“You were fascinated with the contents of that wardrobe.” She smiled lazily at him. Dorian walked to the bed and sat next to her. “How is Aelin?”

Manon looked at him, those golden orbs shimmering. “Getting better,” she replied. “She has stopped screaming and is now sleeping.” She tapped his head. “You never answered my question.” “Head hurts, but otherwise alright,” Dorian said, giving her a weak smile. Manon missed his smooth voice, missed speaking to him. “Have you taken any tonics?” He nodded. “Chaol made me take three different ones.” One for headaches, one for strength and the other for any other pains or aches. Manon brushed away a strand of ebony hair from Dorian’s eyes. “Good. We need you back to health, as well as Aelin.” She pressed her lips against Dorian’s cheek and lingered. He smelt like musk and snow. Home, her mind said. She pulled back.

“I miss you,” he whispered. “I am in the same building as you,” she teased. Dorian closed his eyes. “I don't feel.. _here_. I'm somewhere else.” It was a strange feeling to pinpoint. 

“Then where are you?” She placed her hand upon his. He shook his head, as if trying to shake away a bad memory. “I don’t know. Will you stay with me tonight?” He said finally, quickly; as if he were bracing rejection. They'd slept beside each other once, in a tent on the battlefield. He'd had a nightmare, and she'd comforted him, holding him close. He'd never forget her sweet scent, and how her lips tasted as he kissed them. She squeezed his hand. They needed to discuss this. Them. Together. Manon let herself imagine what it would be like to be his. To wake up next to his face everyday. To hear him say ‘I love you.’ She pushed those thoughts to the back of her head. For another time, she thought.

“Of course.” She recieved a smile in return. Real..or fake?

"Thank you, Manon," He said sighing. He placed his head on Manon's shoulder. She tensed, but soon relaxed to run her fingers through his tame ebony curls. They loved each other's hair. Loved the contrast of the raven black and snowy white. Dorian loved to touch her soft hair, and so did she. He'd learned to plait hair, and had begged her to try it out of her waist-length strands. After begging for three days, she'd given in. 

"Why are you saying that?" She asked, her pale brows furrowing at him. 

"Because, it shows you care about me," He fawned, grinning up at the witch. His Witchling. In return, she gave him a small smile. 

"It..does?" She asked, confused by anything to do with affection. The King snorted. "Yes, it does."

Manon nodded. "Alright then."

Dorian laughed. 

 

* * *

 

Dorian looked at himself in the mirror. A broken reflection stared back at him, with haggard cheekbones and lifeless eyes. It was like he didn’t have a soul, as no life was visible in his haunted reflection. Dorian sighed, and turned to walk to the bed. He was alone, as per usual. Manon had stayed with him that night. She’d led him cling to her, for warmth he told her, but really it was to feel safe. That had been three nights ago, and even though Manon visited him during the day, she never stayed during the night. Dorian crawled into the double bed, and brought the freshly smelling white sheets to his chin. He slept more than usual, and even though he was always asleep, he still felt tired when he woke. What was the point in all this? It was a vicious cycle of sleeping, eating, being asked ‘Are you alright?’, and sleeping again. There had been talk of going back to Adarlan, but nothing had been officially settled. There was also talk of his mother, Georgina, coming. Dorian had silently prayed to the gods that she wouldn’t come anytime soon. He couldn’t stand all the coddling he was yet to face, and her court..ugh.

He had visited Aelin yesterday and, as he expected, she looked as bad as him. She had been coping better than him, though, as it was him who got affected by the Vlag's dark magic the most. Aelin’s hair was unbrushed, and was loose around her shoulders. She had smiled at Dorian when he walked in.

“How are you feeling?” he had asked.

She shrugged. “Like I fought a ghost leopard and lost.” He had breathed out a laugh.

“You would be dead if you fought a ghost leopard and lost.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

 

Dorian shook his head at the memory and lay back onto the plush cushions. Healers had come and gone to check on his behaviour and health. They said simply that there was nothing wrong with him physically, but mentally...that was another story. Dorian brought his arm to rest on the pillow. He looked at his wrist, and how the blue veins stood out against his tanned skin. Suddenly, he sat up. He should be stronger than this, but it was just so hard to even wake up in the mornings. Hard to smile, as if everything were okay. A knock at the door disrupted his unhealthy thoughts. “Come in,” he called weakly. The door slowly opened to find Asterin, Manon’s cousin and second. She smiled faintly at him, before sitting at the edge of the bed.

“I thought I should visit the little King who Manon has been worried about for the past five days.” Asterin gazed at his face, and Dorian felt his heart beat faster at the serious look her features held. She tilted her head, and let out what Dorian assumed was a snort. “You don’t trust me, I get it.”

“I never said that,” he replied.

“How are you, Dorian?” Dorian looked down at his hands. “Alright.”

“Bullshit,” Asterin said quickly. Dorian head snapped up to face her. “It’s obvious you’re not alright. I didn’t give up my time to come her to get an ‘alright.’ I want the truth.”

Dorian breathed out. He hadn’t told anybody how he felt, he didn’t want to burden them. Maybe it would be...good..to share his thoughts. So he did. Asterin sat quietly as Dorian let out everything. About being tired all the time, being fed up with the healers, and the worst thought, not wanting to live. By the end, tears rolled down Dorian’s face, and Asterin looked at him in understanding.

“I’ve felt like that before, in different circumstances, but I’ve still felt like that. You know about...” Dorian nodded. She smiled sadly. “My world ended that day.”

“How did you cope with it? Get past it?” Dorian whispered. “I didn’t.” He looked at her in confusion. “There will always be sadness in our lives, it will always stay there. We just have to simply live with it. Some days happiness will overcome sadness, and vice versa.” She lay her hand on his in a friendly manner, and Dorian realised he was comfortable talking to the witch. They sat for another couple of minutes in silence before Asterin had to leave. “Goodbye, little King.” She gave a little bow before walking out and silently closing the door. Dorian lay back down and got comfortable. Maybe one day, he wouldn’t feel like this, but as Asterin said; we have to simply live with it. He fell asleep within minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Manorian fluff :)

Dorian’s sapphire eyes fluttered open to meet gold ones. “Morning, Princeling,” Manon said quietly.

Dorian groaned.

“Five more minutes,” he said sleepily as he turned his back to Manon.

“Sleeping is _not_ going to help, Dorian.”

“I don’t care.”

Manon put a hand to his ebony hair. It was honestly the softest hair she had ever felt on a male but, then again, she never felt those she bedded's hair. She stayed silent, twirling the small curls with her fingers. He had almost purred at the feeling, but frowned when she suddenly stopped. Slowly he turned to face her, his expression the epitome of sadness. “I do care, I just..”

“I know,” she cut in. Manon had noticed such a change in him, and when she saw Asterin walk out of his room, Manon decided that, from that night, his bedroom was theirs. She told herself that it was just to help him come out of the nightmares and panic attacks, but really..she rather enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her waist, the sound of his smooth breathing in her ear. That had been three days ago, but she never regretted it: spending most of her time with the young King. Especially since he had been improving. Gradually. He still slept a lot, but when he wasn’t asleep, he would eat, bathe and make casual conversation. This was good, the healer said. Good that he no longer needed to be force fed, or that he would make his own way to the bathing rooms. Manon shook her head and gently touched his cheek, running a finger down the smooth, soft skin. His skin was so pale that the blue veins were easily seen. She had noticed that he often looked at his wrist and hoped that the he wasn’t thinking what she thought he was. Dorian smiled weakly at her and just at that moment she felt her heart shatter. She felt something for the man, something she had never felt before. It wasn’t...couldn’t...be love. Could it? She couldn’t tell whether she was pleased or annoyed with herself for wanting it to be something like love. Fond feelings? Yes. Love? She wasn’t sure.

“What’s on your mind?” Dorian’s whisper cut through her thoughts. Her hand was still on his cheek, and she didn’t move it.

“We’re alive,” She eventually said.

He gave her a confused look. “Uh..yeah?”

“No, Dorian. The war is over. We are alive.” We could be together, were the silent words which were locked in her mind, unable to be spoken.

Confusion, fear then hope was shown on Dorian’s face.

“We are.”

He had never thought about it in that way. 'The war is over, Dorian pet, we can go home', Phillipa had said to him the day before. It hadn’t clicked in until Manon had said those words. The war is over. We are alive. The war is over. We are ali-

Suddenly Dorian pressed his lips to Manon’s, then pulled away to look at her. He smiled, showing dimples. The young King flung away the sheets to speed-walk to the large window at the back of the room and pulled away the curtains to reveal the perfect winter scene. Snow fell from the sky lightly, until it covered the trees and bushes like a blanket. It was just then Dorian felt a small part of his shattered heart click into place. The winter scene was his magic. He hadn’t realised that he was making the fall season turn into winter. My emotions must be causing this, he thought.

“Are you alright?” He turned to see Manon, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“I think I’m okay.” Dorian walked over to the witch and sat next to her. “For now,” He added. She furrowed her brows at him before giving him a small smile and pushing a strand of hair from his face. The small ebony curls almost reached his chin now, the longest he had ever kept his hair. Manon sat up, before changing and walking out the door. Dorian had frowned when he heard the soft click of the door handle. Why did she leave? Sighing, he changed into clean clothes and was just about to go back to sleep when the door opened. He turned to see Manon carrying two...mugs? Dorian sat up and gave her a confused glance which turned into a beam when he saw what was inside...

Hot chocolate!

He gratefully took the mug from her and wrapped his two hands around it, stealing it's warmth. “Phillipa told me how you like it,” Manon said sheepishly. He kissed her on the cheek before taking a sip of the hot liquid. Memories of his childhood invaded his mind. Sliding down the corridor in socks to the kitchen. Sitting on Phillipa’s lap while she read him a book. Every memory before his father had...Dorian shook his head slightly.

“You don’t like it?”

Dorian looked at Manon. “No.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“I don’t like it, I _love_ it!” 

Her worried expression turned into a slow smile, showing her true teeth, not the metal. Dorian's eyes widened.

"Do that again," He breathed. He'd never seen the witch smile that widely. _Never_. By the wyrd it was gorgeous. Her sharp features softened, and her rusty-gold eyes shone. Then, he noticed another feature when she had said no. "Are you..blushing?!" Indeed, blue was creeping up on her pale cheeks. Manon glared at him. 

"No I am not."

"Yes, you are!" Dorian beamed. 

"You **insufferable**."

"You're _amazing_."

She shut him up with a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the start of my series 'The Shattered King.' If you follow me on Tumblr (redandblackassassin.tumblr.com) you will know that I've wrote six chapters already. I'm unsure with how many chapters there will be in the series, but let's see how it goes :) All characters and setting belong to Sarah .J Maas.


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